


With Love Fraternal Harden'd He His Shield

by citizenjess (givehimonemore)



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Elemental Magic, George Borrow, Intersex Loki (Marvel), Juul Log, Light Bondage, M/M, Pagan Festivals, Pre-Canon, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Saturnalia, Stonehenge - Freeform, Thorki - Freeform, Winter Solstice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 07:01:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19145917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givehimonemore/pseuds/citizenjess
Summary: Thor and Loki help a particular group of mortals ring in the Winter Solstice.





	With Love Fraternal Harden'd He His Shield

**Author's Note:**

  * For [patientalien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/patientalien/gifts).



> A recent visit to Stonehenge sort of inspired this; the rituals described are loosely based on both Juul (Yule) and Saturnalia, both of which Thor and Loki, respectively, have been associated with, but this was honestly mostly an excuse to write about them doin' it at Stonehenge. It was all just a bit of fun, really. Title is a line from a George Borrow poem called "Miscellanies" (I think).

The mortals gather bi-annually to observe the trajectory of their solar system's sun, and to pay tribute to the nigh-immortal beings who continue to allow their planet to revolve fruitfully around it. They are a simple people, but their offerings to their acknowledged gods are plentiful, and so in return, said gods often bless such celebrations, and sometimes even participate in the festivities themselves.

The first night of said festivities always begins with a feast. The villagers eat and drink their fill, and then eat and drink some more, and then dance and frolic, their merriment a balm against the brisk winter air. Just outside the great hall in which much of the dining takes place, an immense bonfire is erected for the occasion, blue-orange flames devouring a vast assortment of kindling. A particular piece of wood has been pre-chosen as its centerpiece, one whose ashes will be collected, when all is said and done, for a variety of purposes. Some villagers utilize their shares to salt the land; others ferret their portions into trinkets and charms to ward off various evils.

Thor and Loki are well-received on this night, and indulgently, Thor spends a considerable length of time overseeing various customs and blessing the mortals' offerings to them, including this particular wooden log. In the span of time between nightfall and midnight, Loki, too, awes and amazes many eager onlookers with visual spectacles of his own making, seidr flowing from his fingertips as easily as the air from his lungs. The two gods are a gift this night, bestowed upon their loyal worshippers from high above, and the mortals are certain to show how reverent they are of the godly attention.

At midnight, all activity - what remains, that is, of onlookers who are not too young or weak-willed to partake in this particular aspect of the night's festivities - culminates 'round an arrangement of tall, thick, circular stones. Though the weather is mild, the ground and tops of the stones alike are nonetheless covered in a layer of frost that crunches beneath animal hyde footwear. Were tonight's festivities not imbued with actual immortals, the evening's final show would be somewhat more symbolic in nature. As it is, however, the gods in attendance are well prepared to provide onlookers with a rather comprehensive interpretation of this most sacred tradition.

Even so, it takes a selection of mortals by surprise, denoted by a chorus of delicate gasps, when, at said tradition's start, Loki, standing before Thor, is forcibly stripped of his clothing; no pelt or fetter is left unscathed by the ceremonial knife which Thor uses to cut them from Loki's body, slowly, methodically, until at last there is only him, bare and pale in the harsh moonlight. To most of Midgard's inhabitants, the explanation that Loki is, in fact, a god is enough to appreciate why he does not so much as quake when even his booted feet are stripped and his bare soles are made to connect with the freezing ground. On Asgard, of course, certain parties are privy to a more complicated explanation of Loki's particularly uncanny ability to endure such cold, but on this night, in this place, such rationalization matters not.

Thor's lips are sticky and taste of elderberry wine, and his mouth lingers on Loki's, the same way his hand fails to fall immediately from the slighter god's cheek before he steps away. Within the inner sanctum of the man-made collection of stones, the two position themselves, the gaps between the boulders filled by the bodies of onlookers. Shoulder to shoulder they stand, an appropriately intimate crowd for an intimate moment. 

Loki does not flinch when the first bolts of lightning, nor the accompanying initial boom of thunder are called down from the heavens; the close proximity to their sheer magnitude, however, nonetheless succeeds in causing a stir amongst the mortals. Still, their delight and focus is rapt as Thor appears to capture an isolated bolt of lightning between his large palms; he gestures, and the singular bolt splits in two. Mimicking his movements, Loki outstretches his own naked arms, and when Thor's own arms drop anew a moment later, Loki's remain suspended, attached at the wrists to alternating sides of two of the largest, centermost stones in the arrangement. 

Thor moves to position himself behind Loki, then, but only after drawing a large hand appraisingly down Loki's nude chest, avoiding, somewhat teasingly, Loki's half-hard cock. Walking around him, Thor exhales a warm breath of air against the back of Loki's neck, and it is the closest Loki comes to trembling. A small pot is produced from the folds of Thor's own still in-tact clothing. When he dips his fingers briefly inside and then holds them up slightly, they appear slick with viscous oil. Thor does not need to forcibly nudge Loki's legs apart, though he pats Loki's flank for good measure as Loki assumes a more appropriate position.

Loki's eyelashes flutter as Thor's fingers slip inside of him, first into the hot channel just behind his male parts - whether due to magical intervention or a trick of his personal biology, Loki currently presents both sets of external genitalia - and then, gingerly, past the taut ring of muscle in his backside. Once this particular ritual has been completed - whether Loki's womb will blossom with new life after Thor's seed fills him is not something with which the mortals here tonight will concern themselves; the metaphorical illusion of copulation is more than sufficient to kick off the ensuing near-fortnight of revelry and fornication that will follow, though Thor has been known in years past to ensure that a requisite amount of fertilization has taken place, to be certain - Thor moves away slightly to slick himself with remnants from the same small container. All the while, Loki's makeshift bindings crackle with barely contained energy around his wrists. Still, Loki appears calm, even peaceful, accepting this particular duty with a rare solemnity.

Once properly repositioned, Thor moves to enter Loki, the latter whom leans forward somewhat to accommodate the thunder god's sizable cock between his womanly folds. Loki's mouth is wide, his face open and vulnerable as he is taken, his toes curling a little in the slush in which he stands as he works to maintain his stance. Their audience watches appreciatively, some curling beneath beckoning arms or cuddling against proffered sides, out of a need for warmth, a spike in arousal, or both. When Thor's hand that isn't gripping Loki's bare hip for purchase moves to once again finger Loki's anus, Thor's cock still sheathed inside of the slighter god's warm cunt, Loki outright keens.

When Thor comes, it is with a roar that cracks the sky; head tilted back, enchanted metallic helmet glinting in the dim night light, the thunder god completes the sanctification ceremony, officially ushering in the start of the mortals' own twelve days of celebratory copulation. It is hardly surprising, however, that the force of his own orgasm would cause Loki himself to spill, and droplets of godly spend fall soundlessly to the ground almost simultaneously with Thor's own eruption, albeit in this case, to be absorbed by the topmost layer of snow at the crowd's feet.

Though a handful of mortals seem interested in the manner by which Thor looses Loki from his bonds, and then assists him in dusting off discarded garments of clothing and reaffixing them (occasionally aided by magical means) in anticipation of their skyward journey home, the conclusion of Thor's and Loki's coupling is often the cue for other participants to begin their own ceremonial pursuits. Indeed, several beings quickly appear to pair off for the first of many, many configurations across the days to come, though it is unlikely that Thor's and Loki's precise demonstration will be replicated, for various reasons. 

When the time comes for them to take their leave, the remaining onlookers gaze appreciatively as Thor raises a sinewy arm to the sky, clutching in his fist a hammer whose metal gleams with ancient wonder and knowledge. In the crook of his other arm, Thor holds Loki close in a lover's embrace to rival any of those modeled by the mortals on this night. The two gods make no particular promise to return for the next annual rotation before they take their leave; such a possibility relies, of course, on the continued loyalty of their subjects within the realm, and on the staid belief there in the blessings of mystical, near-omnipotent beings whose comings and goings in the mortal realm are as lusty and mercurial as the weather which accompanies them. Still, that they came in the first place leaves many of the mortal realm's inhabitants feeling hopeful in the face of the long winter months to follow.


End file.
